A Storm of Wild Fires
by redBadger14
Summary: After an assassination attempt on Hawke's life, he soon realizes that unifying the mages and templars during a civil war would be more difficult than he could possibly imagine. With Isabela on his side, Hawke sets out to find the solution.
1. Chapter 1

**Amidst the Chaos**

**Chapter 1**

_It hasn't even been a month. We're stuck here, we can't even haul anchor. Already, many mages are trying to prevent me from unifying them with the templars. Why can't there ever be a sense of normalcy, of peace?_

Hawke was never this serious, but a time had never often called for it until now. Faced with the duties of Viscount of Kirkwall, and already he knew he had to flee the city. Hawke couldn't save and defend Kirkwall alone. He stood amongst the bodies of blood mages within the hall of the Viscount, all dead by Hawke's hand alone. They had come to assassinate him, but the element of surprise was not on their side.

_What drives these people, who share my abilities, to such madness?_

Hawke could barely continue his thoughts when Isabela and Varric burst through the front doors, clearly trying to get a hold of their breath. Noticing that the blood mages were all dead, Isabela regained her composure. "Aw, I was hoping to save the day, or something," Isabela commented, looking at all the bodies. "Why, your concern is welcome, love," Hawke said with a wide grin, his humorous side returning to him. Isabela sauntered past, returning Hawke's grin with one of her own, chuckling as she ran her fingers up his arm. Her touch sent shivers of longing throughout Hawke's body, but he knew better than to give in right now.

Finally, Varric let out a long laugh before saying, "Shit Hawke, I was right when I said leaving you alone was…dangerous." Hawke laughed, "Well Varric, dangerous for Bianca's health maybe. And as usual I can always rely on you to arrive _after _you're needed." Varric chuckled again, "This is why I say you ripped apart an ogre with your bare hands. Saves me from needing to help you."

"You're too kind," Hawke let out with a smile.

"Sorry to break the great mood here," Isabela interrupted, "but one of your mage lovers has a letter." Isabela picked up the letter and handed it to Hawke. Curiosity covered his face as he opened the letter and began to read. Curiosity soon transformed to worry. "What's wrong?" Isabela asked, a slightly loving tone gracing her voice. Varric stepped forward, wanting to listen as well.

"Chantry Seekers are coming to Kirkwall to find out what my role in Kirkwall's events of the past decade have been. These mages were sent to assassinate me to keep the Seekers from finding me. The rogue mages are also planning another attack on Kirkwall, but that's all the detail the letter goes into. Nothing more." Bewilderment struck Hawke, spreading to Isabela and Varric. Immediately, Varric turned and walked towards the exit. Before leaving, he turned back to Hawke, "I'm going back to the Hanged Man. I will get my contacts to find some more information on this. Let's not get too far ahead of ourselves Hawke." With that, Varric left.

Hawke let out a sigh and let his head fall forward to face the floor, his eyes closing in an attempt to escape from the unbelievable. Concern crossed Isabela, and she walked towards Hawke, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her chin on his shoulder. She didn't need to ask Hawke what was on his mind; Isabela knew he would tell her. "If all this…information is true, I will have to go on the run, again. I've ran for almost my entire life. And now…"

Hawke couldn't finish. Isabela knew she would need to make a decision she would regret, but regret wasn't preventing her from making this decision; it was being afraid of losing the one man she was finally able to love. "Look, I know this is tough for you. If or when you need to run, I will remain by your side. No matter what." Hawke turned his head to face Isabela, gazing into her eyes. She returned the gaze, and finally the longing that Hawke had suppressed earlier on had won him over. He leaned in, sharing a passionate kiss with Isabela, and for a moment, the worries that plagued them a moment earlier seemed to have passed. When their faces retreated from each other, Hawke said "Thank you," and smiled, calming himself for the first time in the past few hours.

Isabela smiled back as a thought came to her. "Hey, why don't we go down to the Hanged Man and get some drinks?" Hawke laughed as Isabela let go of him, the thought sounding very good to the both of them.

"Excellent," Hawke replied. "Oh, and remember when I helped to find the Tome of Koslun? I never got that kiss from the feisty temptress like I was promised," Hawke said playfully, another grin stretching over his face. Isabela laughed, "That's not fair. This needs to be fixed," she replied with the same playful tone that Hawke had just expressed.

Hawke and Isabela then walked out of the hall, heading down to the Hanged Man where the rest of the night was theirs to remember. For that night, they could put aside whatever the future may hold. Hawke and Isabela realized though that the future would not be kind.


	2. Chapter 2

_Foreword: Hey guys, if you're reading my story, thank you so much. Writing means a lot to me and I am progressively trying to get better. Submit your reviews for my story! I take any constructive criticism I can get, and if it helps me become a better writer or helps my story become better, then I am all ears. Not to mention I just want to hear what you all think! Chapter 1 was just an introduction of sorts to my story. Chapter 2 expands upon that introduction and dives into the story itself, so enjoy! And to those who celebrate it, Happy Easter!_

**Chapter 2**

Slightly cracking open his eyes to prevent a flood of light from from blinding him, Hawke slowly awoke, not exactly knowing where he was presently. He took his time, and after each passing second Hawke started to feel a slight headache as he began to examine his surroundings. Hawke's eyes finally opened wide, and finally he could make out the features of his bedroom ceiling and the light emanating from the open door leading to the room. Lifting his head, Hawke realized he was lying backwards and stark naked on his own bed, his feet facing toward his heavily disturbed pillows.

Hawke lifted his hands to his eyes to wipe some of the grogginess out, and subsequently he discovered a blue bandana wrapped around his wrists, enough to restrain him but not tied too tightly, allowing Hawke to free himself with enough effort. He loosened and removed the bandana; looking at it, Hawke let a chuckle escape his lungs and brought the bandana to his face, breathing in Isabela's sweet aroma of perfume slightly laced with the smell of various alcoholic drinks. Again, Hawke chuckled, quickly being replaced by a groan caused by another small but painful surge in his head.

_I really hope this headache doesn't last the day, _Hawke thought to himself.

Hawke kept a hold of Isabela's bandana and rolled to his right. Unfortunately for Hawke, he had not realized he was lying on the edge of the bed, and thus he fell off the bed, letting out a surprised yell. Hawke's landing, however, was met by a soft-textured body whose touch and smell had been all too familiar to him; Isabela lay on Hawke's floor next to his bed, just as naked as he was. Hawke happened to land face-first into Isabela's breasts, and while surprised he did not seem to mind in the slightest. This action promptly woke Isabela, and she didn't need to open her eyes and look to see that Hawke had already buried his face in her breasts.

"Wanting to go back at it _again_, are you?" Isabela asked, laughing as she said it.

Hawke smiled and laughed as well, "Only if you _really _want to. Though we did just wake up, and I believe a scorching headache is coming on."

"Ooh," Isabela replied coyly, "I suppose if it doesn't get better soon, we may have to remedy it later." Isabela let the tantalizing thought run through her mind like raging rapids. Hawke, enjoying Isabela's physical features, decided to lift himself up and sat back on the bed. He ran his hands through his face and hair, still trying to get himself fully awake. The throbbing in his head, however, remained; Hawke's hand glowed a soft blue as he touched his head, using healing powers to temporarily relieve the pain. In his other hand, Hawke still held Isabela's bandana.

"You may want this back," Hawke said with a laugh to Isabela and handed her the bandana. Isabela smiled and she began to replace it on her head.

Hawke had gotten up and walked to his dresser and decided to put on his signature robes, marked and designed as the Mantle of the Champion, a testament to Hawke's title gained by defeating the Arishok and lately his takedown of Meredith and Orsino. The robes still fit like a glove, despite being put through many battles. Isabela's clothes were scattered on the floor, and she finally got up and started to put them back on. After slipping into her corset, Isabela went over to the bedside table, a bottle half-filled with wine and a shot glass resting there. She poured herself a shot and downed it rather quickly.

"Is there ever a time where you don't drink?" Hawke asked, being slightly serious even with a smirk forming.

"Mmm, you know me. I _always_ have a glass or shot in the morning. Gets the blood flowing." Isabela replied, placing a cork on the bottle and storing the beverage in a nearby drawer. "Now, we need to pay Varric a visit today, don't we?" Isabela asked.

Hawke closed his eyes, remembering the how serious his recent dilemma was. "Yes we do," he said in reply, "Oh, I am so not looking forward to this."

Hawke and Isabela walked downstairs and were greeted by Hawke's loyal mabari. After they had both pet him, Hawke went over to the storeroom and brought out food and water for the dog to have while he was away. Hawke was reminded of Bodahn and Sandal, their absence leaving a significant void in his mansion.

His thoughts wandered most of the morning, and Hawke shook this latest one from his mind. Ready to depart, he left the mansion with Isabela to meet with Varric at his suite in the Hanged Man.

When they had finally arrived at the Hanged Man, the tavern was mostly empty of patrons and breakfast was being served. As Hawke walked toward the stairs going up to Varric's suite, Isabela began to wander off to the bar. Realizing she had left his side, Hawke turned around.

"Isabela, please, I want you by my side for this, whatever the news." Hawke told her.

Isabela was still drawn to the smell of fresh alcohol at the bar, but this wasn't the only thought on her mind. Even though she wanted to be with Hawke, there was still a part of her that wanted to stay away from anything bad that might happen to him. She was still afraid to lose the first man she could love, and Isabela was afraid to hear news that would place Hawke's life in jeopardy. When Hawke called out to her though, she knew that being with him was the _right_ thing she could do at least. Isabela let out a long sigh.

"Sorry Hawke. You're right. Come on, let's go." Isabela said, allowing a smile to form, trying to stay positive.

As they entered the suite together, Varric dismissed one of his many contacts. Varric was seated in his chair, a large goblet filled with whiskey sitting on the table next to him.

"Please, come in you two. Take a seat!" Varric said to them, taking a long sip from his goblet as Hawke and Isabela sat down next to each other.

"Talked to the others lately? Fenris? Aveline? Merrill?" Hawke asked Varric, trying to start up the conversation on a positive note.

"I have actually," Varric responded, "I went and spoke to them while you and Isabela were…out, and they seem to be doing fine. Busy, like you of course."

"That sounds…" Hawke began, before Varric interrupted.

"Hawke, that's the extent of the good news." Varric said, and his smile that was once there had already turned into a frown. He wasn't mad at Hawke or Isabela or their other companions though. The look on Varric's face now caught Isabela's attention.

"Well, what is it Varric?" Isabela asked, more curious now than she was before they got to the Hanged Man.

"Shit, Bela. Didn't think you to sound more curious about this than Hawke." Varric replied, trying to lighten the mood a little.

"I just want to get to the bar already." Isabela joked, prompting a look of discontent from Hawke even though he knew she was joking as well.

Varric laughed for a second, but then returned to the task at hand.

"Well, let's just say, not only will all of us have to separate for a while, but you are going to have a lot of work on your hands, Hawke. And _none_ of it will be easy for you." Varric said.

Hawke hung his head down, closing his eyes yet again, and again trying to escape from reality. Instead, his headache returned, throbbing with pain. Hawke's eyes opened, and were now glowing a flaming red.


	3. The Journey Begins

_A/N: Hey everybody, sorry it took so long to write and upload this chapter. Much has kept me busy for a while, and unfortunately my writing had to take a sideline. Luckily, I was able to watch Game of Thrones on HBO in its entire 10 episodes, and I have begun to read the books by George R.R. Martin. I have learned a lot from Martin's work and the superb job HBO did in translating the first book to premium television. My writing from now on will be influenced by Martin's work; there is even a famous line I snuck in this chapter for effect. This chapter details what the future has in store for Hawke and Isabela, as well as beginning a long journey. Enjoy (finally) Chapter 3 of "Amidst the Chaos."_

**Chapter 3: The Journey Begins**

"Hawke?" asked Isabela, her tone gentle yet strangely calm and curious as though she had seen her love react this way before.

Elemental magic flowed through Hawke's veins like the early morning springs; fire had engulfed his hands and his eyes glowed a smoky red. Anger had caused this magical release, and Isabela's voice helped cap the energy back inside his body. Hawke slowly relaxed, and his eyes returned to normal and the fire gradually ebbed from his hands until extinguished; only then did Isabela return her hand to Hawke's. From underneath the table, Varric rose from hiding; outside of fighting alongside Hawke, Varric had not seen him have magical outbursts before.

"Hawke, I don't know what that was. I don't think I want to. Are you okay?" Varric asked, genuine concern for his friend clearly marked his tone.

"Aside from being caught on fire, I am spectacular," Hawke replied, not at a loss for his humorous side. Although he made light of the event, Hawke still needed to know more of the vital information Varric had prepared to tell him. "What exactly is the issue, Varric? Why must our merry band of misfits part ways?"

Varric returned to his drink, and after he had downed the last pint, addressed Hawke.

"Chantry Seekers are on their way here, to Kirkwall. That battle for Kirkwall really stirred up a shit storm, and the Chantry believes you and your 'accomplices' to be responsible. I suspect they mostly want you, Hawke, as you were no less than a leader to all of us. The deaths of both Meredith and Orsino made it look like you were vying for power, rather than a consequence of the conflict between these damned mages and templars.

If you ask me, you had nothing to do with it. Maker's breath, if only Anders hadn't snapped, I believe this whole mess could have been avoided. Damn-it Blondie!"

Varric got up and retrieved a pitcher of whiskey nearby. He refilled his own goblet and, as a courtesy, refilled the goblets of Hawke and Isabela. As Hawke downed more of the liquid courage, Isabela unconsciously formed a tighter grip on his hand. Isabela had never let herself get so attached to another man before, but there was something about Hawke that allowed her to finally drop her barriers. Life for them was starting to approach the precipice, and Isabela's love for Hawke was never challenged so strongly before.

After replacing the pitcher, Varric sat back down and took his own draught from the goblet. He waited for the whiskey to calmly warm his stomach, and then continued the conversation.

"There's one more thing. Sources in the city tell me that the mages who tried to kill you in days past had been part of an underground movement associated with the rogue mages. Their goal is to assassinate you and assault the templars. This has the smell of another battle all over it Hawke. We are all in a weakened state, and if another organized attack is cast on Kirkwall, the templars may all fall in the battle.

We may be able to take care of the Chantry Seekers and this rogue mage problem at the same time. The Seekers are surely looking for you; I will stay in Kirkwall and try to help them see reason. With luck, they will help us fight back the rogue mages. I will take care to make sure the others find some way to hide from the Seekers. Hawke, I know you and Isabela will refuse to separate, so you will leave the city together to gather help against the mages. Did Sebastian leave for Starkhaven?"

"Sebastian left right after the battle," Hawke replied. "He aims to rule Starkhaven again. With the Chantry in Kirkwall in complete ruin, he had nowhere else to go." Hawke took another draught from his goblet and Isabela followed suit.

"Well good," Varric exclaimed amid swallowing more whiskey, "You and Isabela will head north to Starkhaven and get Sebastian to lead his army to the defense of Kirkwall. With some luck, you may even gather more supporters along the way!"

Varric lost eye contact with Hawke, pausing to admire the intricate design of his goblet. Passed down from his family of House Tethras, Varric's finger glided along the sharp curves and imbedded gems; a masterpiece forged in the depths of Orzammar would not have thought to have been a goblet, of all dwarven designs.

"Heh, we were just starting to have fun, weren't we?" Varric asked rhetorically, drinking the last whiskey that remained in his goblet.

Hawke and Isabela looked at each other and they could not keep laughter from dominating their demeanors.

"Perhaps you mean 'I am going to miss finding new material for my stories of you?'" Hawke had asked after his fit of laughter had subsided. Isabela was still laughing, and Hawke looked over, a grin extending over his face.

"What? I didn't think it was that funny!" Hawke said, the smirk only hinting his sarcasm.

Isabela's laughter was finally slowing, and as she caught her breath, managed to address Hawke.

"No, you've got it all wrong! I thought I was going to miss out on the wonderful sex! But then I remembered that I am going with you. What joy."

Isabela flashed a coy smile Hawke's way, and then looked over at Varric.

"And your chest hair; how am I going to sustain myself over this trip without it?"

Varric laughed, "Just make yourself a mental image, Bela. I'm sure it will suffice."

Varric smiled and shook his head, humor finally brightening his sour mood from moments prior. Hawke laughed again in an uproar. They had all been around each other for more than a decade, developing a bond that no other person could hope to shatter. Anything any one of them said was sure to have an inappropriate undertone, ones that only they could understand or laugh at. This was one of these moments; they have occurred before but always provide a step back for Hawke and his friends, a time to allow them to forget the stressful situations of the world around them and admire the comraderie they have, as well as maintaining it.

The laughter reached an awkward silence, and thus the euphoria had ended; Hawke, Varric, and Isabela all stood up, understanding that all Varric had to say was said. Varric had one last recommendation however.

"Oh, Hawke, I know you and Bela can take care of yourselves out there, but you will need others alongside you."

"I know, I'll ask around and see if there are any daring souls wishing to partake in the company of a wealthy mage and a sultry pirate captain!" Hawke replied, almost implying that their party was to be feared.

"Hey, that makes me feel somewhat inferior you know." Isabela retorted, a displeasured furrow formed in her brow.

"Oh you know what I meant. I meant to say the charming, beautiful, um…"

Hawke was at a loss for words, and as light as the situation was, he couldn't help but wonder how he couldn't create an adjective that positively and properly described Isbabela. He loved Isabela, and not being able to find his tongue at that moment concerned him just as much as the arduous task that was laid before him.

"…oh you'll find out later." Hawke smiled and winked, and Isabela understood the invitation.

"Ooh, actions really do speak louder than words." Isabela played, letting euphoric thoughts course through her mind like the wind through the mountain ranges of the Free Marches; the thoughts sent shivers of delight up her spine, and now Isabela had a reason to leave the Hanged Man to attend to issues that most pleased her.

"Well that's that Hawke. Best be on your way. We'll talk again before you and Bela leave." Varric said. He then proceeded to clean up after Hawke and Isabela; he however intended to have more to drink. Hawke and Isabela both wished Varric well and then departed the Hanged Man.

As they approached the grand stairs that connected Lowtown and Hightown of Kirkwall, Hawke and Isabela were approached by a messenger. Hawke shared a confused look with Isabela, and then addressed the messenger.

"You look to be in a hurry! What matter requires my attention, Ser?"

The messenger looked to be out of breath, a sign that whatever his message was about was urgent. After regaining composure, the messenger answered Hawke.

"Greetings, Champion. I am indeed in a hurry. Knight-Captain Cullen and Seneschal Bran require your immediate presence in the Viscount's Keep. I was not informed further."

Hawke looked back at Isabela; her brow was yet again furrowed, genuine worry adorned her face. Her hand found Hawke's, clutching tightly around his fingers. Hawke nodded to acknowledge her, and then told the messenger he would be at the Keep right away. With that, the messenger returned to the Keep.

"This day just gets better and better." Hawke muttered, as Isabela wrapped her other arm around his waist.

"Stay strong, Hawke. You've been through worse before, you can get through this. Let's sort this matter out and get back to our…guilty pleasures."

A gentle tone marked Isabela's voice, and Hawke took it to heart. At hearing the latter part of what she had said, Hawke let out a small chuckle.

"That we shall."

Confidence restored, Hawke and Isabela moved with haste to the Viscount's Keep. They seemed to reach the Keep in no time and surprisingly neither of them were out of breath. Pushing through the front doors and further into the throne room, Hawke and Isabela found Knight-Captain Cullen and Seneschal Bran; Cullen was restraining the traitor, a mage.

"What's going on here Cullen?" Hawke asked as he moved forward to the Templar.

"Champion, we caught this traitor moving toward Lowtown a few hours ago. He looked suspicious, so we followed him. After seeing me, he became aggressive and attacked me and my men. Luckily, we neutralized his magic and brought him here." Cullen responded.

Seneschal Bran decided to speak as well, "Our suspicions were confirmed; this mage was sent to assassinate you, Champion. Another attempt. This matter is more urgent than we have forseen."

Hawke grunted.

"Nice to see my life is of the utmost urgency to you, Seneschal." Hawke retorted sarcastically. Seneschal Bran didn't appreciate Hawke's tone, but he wouldn't dare talk back to the Champion and Viscount of Kirkwall.

Hawke looked over the traitor; the mage was of a medium height and a gaunt fellow. Upon seeing the Champion within such close proximity, the mage erupted in an outburst, trying his best to get to Hawke. Cullen kicked the back of his legs, bringing the mage to his knees.

"Feisty one, aren't you?" Hawke asked the mage rhetorically. "Here I thought Isabela was the only one that wanted me this badly." Hawke then joked. He winked at Isabela who smirked in return.

"Your death would usher in a new age for mages in the Free Marches, in Kirkwall!" the mage shouted. "Once magic and the powers of the Fade course through this city, other cities and countries would learn to fear us! What could you possibly know about power, Champion?"

Hawke laughed. He had already made up his mind on what to do with the traitor.

"I don't think you understand. I want a city and a country with freedom for all, where mages can live without intense scrutiny from templars, where templars can hunt actual _dangerous_ mages, such as yourself. I want mages to practice their power devoid of blood magic, to not fall victim to demons, to help the common man and to help defend their livelihood and their neighbors. That is my goal, traitor. Your goal is to seed chaos among our beautiful city and our good people."

With that being said, Hawke let go of Isabela's hand. Channeling mysterious energies, Hawke's hands glowed a bright white. Moving his hands in front of him, the traitor suddenly felt a force unlike any he had experienced. Using arcane powers, Hawke restrained the mage and asked Cullen and Bran to back away. Hawke again moved his hands in a specific motion, forcing the traitor's body to conform forward, his neck easily exposed.

Hawke had finished his spell. He then reached back and removed his Staff of Parthalan, passed down from his father. The staff's handle was constructed of a strong wooden frame; on one end, the wood spiraled up around a large red gem in the shape of an oval, magical energies channeled within. On the other end, the staff was pointed with a blade of medium length and was sharpened just as well as the largest of broadswords. Leaning on the blade, Hawke bowed his head forward.

"I, Viscount Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall, find you guilty of treason to the city of Kirkwall and the Free Marches, and hereby sentence you to die."

With the blade pointed opposite him, Hawke lifted and swung the staff's blade upward and then back down over the traitor's neck with great force. The traitor's head was removed cleanly from his body, and his spurting blood decorated the floor of the Keep and the blade on Hawke's staff. The life now absent from the traitor, the magic holding him in place lifted, and the body slumped to the floor.

Isabela spoke up.

"Was that really necessary?"

Hawke realized Isabela was wholly surprised that he took the traitor's execution into his own hands. Walking over to her, Hawke calmed her down and explained his action.

"The man was a traitor, I couldn't let him roam the city. As to why I killed him myself…the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword."

Isabela still looked shocked, but she seemed to have understood. She nodded, and Hawke saw she was ready to leave.

"Seneschal Bran, see to it that this mess is cleaned up. Cullen, you may return to the Gallows. I must return to my home, I need to see to personal matters."

Bran and Cullen bowed, and then set on their agendas.

Hawke took Isabela by the hand and proceeded to leave the Keep. There still wasn't something right about Isabela, but there was no time to address it at the Keep.

With the matter at the Keep settled, Hawke and Isabela returned to the estate.


	4. The Pain of Memory

_I've been away from writing for a while now, but now I bring you guys Chapter 4, and the name of the story has been changed to "A Storm of Wild Fires." Enjoy!_

**Chapter 4: The Pain of Memory**

Hawke awoke to the sound of a howling storm sweeping through Kirkwall, lightning flashing brighter than the lights that illuminated his estate. It was morning, and while the weather may not have been pleasant, Hawke knew he had to get up and make the most of the day ahead. He looked up and saw Isabela's face resting peacefully, and realized his head was resting on her breasts. Hawke had not realized; his head was comfortable where it was, and he laughed at the thought. Hawke proceeded to rise from the bed, sitting on the edge and rubbing the tiredness from his eyes. Isabela woke to Hawke's rustling and laughed.

"You carry on with laying your head on me while we sleep, these twins of mine may turn into those of an old hag!"

"We can't have that now, can we? I want them to remain pristine," Hawke answered back. He turned to face Isabela and they both smiled at each other. Hawke leaned in and kissed her on the lips and uttered, "I love you, Isabela."

"I know," she replied, humming a pleasant tune to herself.

Hawke looked down, then back up at Isabela. It pained him to ask her the question he was about to ask, but he felt it necessary nonetheless. "Why can't you say 'I love you' back?" Hawke asked, the words tasting sour and vile leaving his lips.

Isabela stopped humming and looked Hawke in the eyes. She wanted to tell him that she loved him, but recent events had her concerned. "I just want to know one thing Hawke. That outburst you had at The Hanged Man. What was that all about?" Isabela asked.

Hawke clenched his teeth, the question painfully drilling his mind. He did however detect Isabela's concern for him, so he prepared to tell her the truth.

"It was my memory of Anders," Hawke answered, "He was a good friend, and we all had great times together. You know that as well as I do Isabela." Hawke choked up, but managed to continue, "Nothing was more painful than Anders betraying not only us, but the city of Kirkwall. What he did to the Chantry was unforgivable, and that single action he took drove the entire city and the mages into complete madness. It's because of him that we have to deal with this shit-covered mess…and why I had to kill him. Every time I think about this conflict and how much we have to sacrifice to bring back a simple peace, I think about that moment in Lowtown, and I go into fit of pique. That is why, Isabela."

When Hawke, finished, he leaned forward on the edge of the bed and buried his face in his hands, fiercely fighting back tears. Isabela sat up and crawled over to Hawke's side of the bed. Kneeling behind him, she rubbed his back and did her best to console him.

"You said enough, Hawke. I understand. I was only concerned about you; I don't know what goes on in that head of yours sometimes," said Isabela. She then reached her arms around Hawke, hugging him from behind and leaning her head against his, said, "I love you."

Hawke lifted his face from his hands, the paths of tears clearly left behind on his cheeks. He turned and shared a kiss with Isabela, each smiling to the other. He was happy to have her reassurance in these times, and those three words meant a lot more to Hawke than the weight of the burden he carried on his shoulders. With that, Hawke got up and wiped his face dry.

"Alright, let's get dressed. We have to plan out this journey of ours," Hawke told Isabela. With that, Isabela got up and proceeded to dress. She laughed and looked over at Hawke while pulling up her leather boots. "Planning things out is not my strong suit, you know," Isabela joked. Hawke laughed in response, and reassured her, "Any plan is better than no plan. Just try not to remember the ordeal with the Qunari relic."

Isabela smirked as she was pulling her blouse over her body. "You ass," she chuckled.

Hawke smiled, all the while staring out the window of his estate, thinking deeply about how to proceed with making a plan. The storm outside was so strong that its blustering winds and snaps of lightning went unnoticed since he woke up, but Isabela had just begun to notice the storm.

"Maker, you would think we were aboard a ship or something out on the open sea," Isabela quipped. She had finished tying the bandana on her head, and walked over to Hawke's side to observe Kirkwall through the window Hawke was staring through. The rain fell almost sideways, swept by the brutal winds that accompanied them. The lightning was so fierce that it seemed to dare to pierce through the window which Hawke and Isabela were currently looking through, and the thunder kept them on their toes, not knowing when the next boom would rumble the estate.

As violent as the storm was, Hawke and Isabela were strangely caught up in admiring it. The power of the storm alone was something for them to appreciate. The time for admiration was over however, and Hawke moved toward his writing desk to begin drafting a plan.

"Sebastian pledged Starkhaven's support to Kirkwall, to me. He will surely help us in our time of need, especially considering what happened to the Chantry. He will most likely be a changed man since the attacks, so we should be careful with him even though we are still friends," Hawke informed Isabela.

Isabela nodded in agreement and helped Hawke plot a travel route north to Starkhaven. Once that was done, one more matter needed to be settled.

"Bela, we need someone else to come with us. I'm confident in our abilities, but we could always use someone to keep an eye on us in case things get rough," Hawke advised her. Isabela let a dirty connotation of Hawke's use of the term 'rough' run through her mind before asking, "And who exactly do you have in mind to embark on this adventure with us?"

Hawke bowed his head, thinking carefully of who to bring with him and Isabela. He knew it would have to be someone who trusted him with anything; Hawke's mission was too critical. He couldn't risk bringing someone along who may betray himself or Isabela. Deciding he had thought enough on the issue, Hawke made up his mind.

"We will take Carver with us. My brother will remain loyal to me until his dying breath."

Concern shrouded Isabela as soon as Hawke had named his brother. While Carver was Hawke's brother, Isabela knew as well as Hawke did that Carver was not very fond of his older brother.

"Are you sure that is wise?" Isabela asked him.

Hawke turned and looked at his love. He didn't look concerned, and instead let out a lighthearted grunt and countered Isabela's claim.

"My brother may not like me very much, but he sure does love me," Hawke said, a wide grin stretching across his face.

Isabela laughed, and the matter was then decided.

"You know we need to pull him from the Grey Wardens for a while, right?" she asked Hawke. Hawke nodded and replied, "I know the Wardens are stationed at the Gallows right now, and will be for a few weeks. We shall find him there, and while the Wardens won't take too kindly to me needing Carver's services, I'm sure they will allow it, for Kirkwall's safety."

"Shall we be off then?" Isabela asked.

Hawke laughed, "In this weather? Bela you can't be serious."

"Oh Hawke, you know you love me better wet," Isabela replied. Just as well, Isabela winked at Hawke tantalizingly, and with that he couldn't resist.

"Well, I suppose my magic could at least keep us warm," Hawke joked.

With that, Hawke and Isabela prepared to travel to the Gallows, and brave the storm that occupied Kirkwall. Just like the many storms that came before it.


End file.
